Keeping Mum
by Apocalypse Betty
Summary: Fred and Daphne struggle to keep quiet at a company Christmas party. Warning: Rated M for sexual themed content. Sequel to Couch Sitting.


The network's Christmas party was in full swing. Stars from various shows under contract with the owner, Joran McGregor, came for the free food and free booze. Normally, Fred and Daphne would give Joran a raincheck for the next company shindig, but with the two new faces on Daphne's show, Shaggy and Scooby, a chance at free food couldn't be passed over.

In between making polite conversation with actors, Daphne would catch glimpses of Fred on the other side of the room, laughing and mingling with other producers. Several of whom happened to be attractive women.

Daphne definitely did not miss the way Gretchen Sawder, head writer of various soap operas, was laughing a little too loudly at Fred's jokes and had placed her hand on his arm no less than three times.

Fred looked in Daphne's direction and they locked eyes. She quirked an eyebrow and he smiled charmingly while shrugging his shoulders.

Daphne wandered towards the bar looking for a ginger ale, but surprisingly that was the one drink that Joran didn't have available.

The bartender motioned behind his back, "I've got some in the pantry back there, you're welcome to look around."

Daphne opened the door and whistled at the network owner's stock room. Her own father was a very wealthy man, but Joran's wealth must surpass the Blake fortune.

She stepped inside and busied herself looking for the beverage and didn't notice Fred follow her in. He leaned causually against a shelf, arms folded across his chest, "I was wondering where you'd disappeared to."

Daphne smiled at his voice but didn't turn around, "I saw you had plenty of company."

Fred moved to stand behind her, "Yeah, but not the company I wanted."

Daphne leaned forward to blow dust off of a bottle label and felt his hand graze her back. He swept the hair from the nape of her neck and nibbled a trail to her ear. Daphne tried to swat him away as he reached around to cup a breast, "Freddie, not here! What if Joran…?"

Fred smiled against her neck and massaged her breasts tenderly, "Then we will need to keep quiet," he nipped lightly on the sensitive hollow of her throat, "Let's not give anyone a reason to come investigate."

Daphne giggled as she reached behind her to stroke his face, "I can be quiet Fred, but I dont know if _you_ can."

His hands started exploring her backside, before reaching around under her skirt, to dip inside her panties. She gave a soft murmur of approval and pushed back into him wanting more, as Fred rubbed her sensitive areas. He paused and she could feel him adjusting his position behind her.

Even though sex was a daily excercise for them, Daphne was always suprised when he slid inside her, having to stretch anew to accomdate his girth. Her legs gave an involuntary shiver that Fred must have felt, because he leaned forward and brushed her ear with his lips, "Me too, Daph."

She bit her lip to keep silent as Fred started to move. Daphne had always taken for granted the ability to make noise when they were intimate, but now she was really struggling as her hands clenched, useless against the shelves. Was the pantry door even closed?

He gripped her waist and made his thrusts hard and fast; right now was not the time for slow and passionate.

Aside from Daphne's soft whimpers and Fred's low grunts, the only other sound was of flesh slapping against flesh.

He was near the edge, his movements becoming frenzied and careless. When he let loose a posessive groan, Daphne turned as best as she could to grasp his face and aggressively hushed him with her mouth and tongue.

The feel of her lips on his did him in, and Fred surged forward in a great final thrust and burst deep inside. He moaned his release, but Daphne took her pleasure in silence. The only outward sign of her orgasm being a great intake of breath, while gripping the shelves until her knuckles turned white.

They both held still and listened to see if they had been heard, but to their great luck the sounds of the party revelers drowned them out.

They stole each others' breath with small, tender kisses as happy laughter was heard only a few feet away. Daphne turned around and straightened Fred's dark blue suit jacket and smoothed his hair, while he pulled up her tank top where her left breast was fully exposed.

Fred lifted the back of her hand to his lips, "Ready to rejoin the party and pretend like nothing happened?"

Daphne winked, "That's showbiz, Fred."


End file.
